A House of Secrets and Lies
by Beyond Lawliet 420
Summary: As Detective L begins to single out his main suspect for the Kira killings, a group of events begin unfolding in the background that will turn not only the investigation upside down, but the life L thinks he knows as well. Mello finds himself on an adventure of self discovery in a harsh, brutal environment and turns to the one person he thinks might be able to help him.
1. Discovery

_"The truth is hard to sort out amongst the secrets and the lies._

 _Familiar faces watch you, but with a perfect stranger's eyes."_

 _ **-L (Death Note Musical -E-)**_

Detective L stared blankly at his screen, re watching the footage he had of the NPA's Chief Yagami's teenage son. He had seen the videos so frequently by now that he had memorized Light's mannerisms and anatomy, whether he'd intended the latter or not. Currently he was watching the young man sit in his room and study, working diligently on his school papers, just like the perfect young man he was. Everything about him from his smile, to his friendly demeanor, to his clothes was just... perfect. Too perfect. L knew about monsters. He'd hunted monsters his entire career. Not the fairy tale trolls and goblins, but real, living monsters wearing human skins. Light was such a monster. A lying monster. Everything about him suggested that his perfection was an act, a ruse, brought about by a young bright mind too bored with the predictable world around him. He played everyone around him so easily, never seeming to remove his mask.

But L had also spotted this monsters weakness, just after the first hint he'd gotten that Light really was Kira. This monster's deadly sin was pride. He couldn't help it, it seemed. He had to be the best, the brightest, with no flaws in sight. When he had uttered that seemingly innocent but damning phrase, "I'll bet Kira sees right through their plan." L knew he'd found him. And he also knew Light wanted him to know. The young Yagami didn't want to be caught, but apparently he also didn't want anyone else getting his hard earned credit either. Light not only wanted to play with Detective L, he was going for the win. Game on.

As he watched the teen slip his left hand into the bag next to him to grab his snack, he leaned in close to the screen in front of him, eyes scanning desperately for something he might have missed. Some small clue...

Suddenly his focus snapped to Light's left hand, as it dug for almost four to five seconds looking for a proper chip. He re wound the footage 8 seconds and watched it again, and again, over and over until he was satisfied that this was his second clue. Why was it taking him so long to pick out just a single chip to eat? L paused the video, calling to Watari to bring him a bag of chips. Not his normal snack, but Watari followed through loyally. He sat himself up like the teenager, even breaking his normal sitting position to match, opened the bag, and grabbed a pen and note book. As his right hand began writing a note to Watari about what he thought he had discovered, his left dug for a chip, quickly found it, and he took a bite, wincing at the assault of salty potato on his taste buds, and discarding the rest of the chip. One second. That had taken only one second. He repeated it several times, sometimes one second, sometimes two, but never any longer than that, no matter how many chips he bit into and then spat out. What was taking him so long?

A grin played across the detective's face as ideas ran through his head, settling on what he considered to be the only possibility. He slipped a small piece of paper and a short pencil inside the bag. Then while his right hand continued the note to Watari, his left wrote down the name of one of Kira's victims in Kanji. Five seconds. That was it. It had to be. Kira was writing down names of criminals to kill later, when he wasn't under survelliance. But where was he getting them from?

He re watched the footage several more times, watching closely every muscle movement Light made. He wrote part of an equation, paused, turned to look into the bag, reached in to dig (and write down a name, L was sure) while turning back to his equation. Five seconds, then he retrieved and ate a chip. Another string of possibilities forced their way through the detective's cerebellum before he landed on the answer. There was a small screen in the bag, most likely tuned into a news channel. To confirm his answer, he began digging through records of the local newstations, seeing which channels had been broadcasting the names of criminals at the time. Four channels, and channel two turned out to be the one he was looking for. He re wound the footage and watched it again from start to finish, pausing each time Light reached for a chip to see one of Kira's victims was being aired at that time. That was it. He had solved the case. Light Yagami was Kira.

But solving the case and providing proof were two different problems. He had already solved the first, and now his mind giddily raced with a plot to solve the second. He finished writing down the information and handed his note off to Watari, not only explaining his discovery but also arrangements that needed to be made for the investigation to continue. Watari nodded wordlessly, watching only a moment as the detective went straight back to work before reading the note and walking out of the room to begin the arrangements.

As Watari finished editing an identity for L to enter Toho with, Hideki Ryuuga as requested, he wondered to himself what L's next plan was. It didn't do him much good however, seeing as even though he'd raised the young man himself (if you could call the job he had performed as such) he never really knew what was going on in L's mind. He had an odd feeling that the young man somehow got off on solving these cases.

Thoughts of L's young, slim, and limber body crept into the old mans mind, and he rather enjoyed them until his phone interrupted the images of the raven haired, pale man stripped naked and laying unconscious against his white sheets. Glaring accusingly at it he was slightly alarmed to see that it was Roger's number lighting the screen. That didn't bode well. Roger never called Watari to chat. Something was wrong, and Wammy had a feeling he knew the subject matter was a young blonde with an attitude problem.

"Watari." He answered in the voice of a friendly old Englishman, a talent considering the truth behind that voice. As he listened to Roger begin complaining about none other than Mello himself, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This kid was starting not to be worth all the trouble and resources they were putting into him, even if L did see him as a viable heir to the detective's theoretical throne. The kid wanted to be L so badly that he was willing to do anything to achieve it. He didn't just want the title, either. Watari had the feeling he wanted to BE L. Lately most of the trouble from Mello came from him digging into records and files he wasn't meant to see. At first it had just been files about the cases L had worked, then files about L himself. He was the only child who had actually met L face to face, and not because anyone had allowed him to. He had snuck into L's room at one point when L wasn't traveling to solve cases, and run straight into him. Annoyingly enough, instead of being angry, L was amused with his efforts, and rewarded him by telling him three personal stories. They had met a few more times after, to play chess or chat briefly before Watari would usher him back to the wing he belonged to.

Wammy severely wished L had never encouraged Mello's behavior because after that he'd only become more persistent in learning things he wasn't meant to know. The old inventor blamed himself somewhat for keeping L so isolated in the first place. Naturally the young man was lonely, and when presented with the opportunity to gain a companion, no matter how briefly, he jumped on it. The problem was the information that Mello had started uncovering recently.

One of the stories L had regaled the bright eyed boy with was the L.A.B.B. case. Naturally Mello remembered B, even if they had only shared housing for a year before the latter ran away. They'd never spent much time together, but Mello was the only child Beyond didn't outright terrify with his mannerisms and sense of humor. So when Mello heard the story, he'd wanted to learn more about B and why he'd left. L had told him that even though he wasn't completely sure of B's reasoning, he thought it had something to do with A's suicide. That part seemed to make L sad, or regretful, and so of course Mello focused on it like a problem that needed solving. And that became Wammy's problem. The young man might not have realized it, but he was starting to uncover information that Wammy didn't want L to know. L trusted him, but if he learned of the old man's extra activities that trust would be diminished. The thing was, Watari had been grooming A and B to possibly replace L if the unthinkable did happen. However, he never really intended either child to succeed. They were mere prototypes for him to test out. He needed to know how much strain he could put young children under before they snapped if he was ever going to successfully recreate L. And he had a feeling Mello had began figuring that part out. He didn't think he'd put it all together yet, or he would have tried reaching L with the information, but he was a smart little brat and seeing as they were unable to curb his enthusiasm, it wouldn't stay secret forever.

Watari came to attention when he noticed Roger was hesitating. Something was wrong this time. This wasn't a mere inconvenience. This time Mello had crossed some line, and more drastic action was going to be needed. "Roger, tell me what the boy has done."

On the other end of the line Roger's lips trembled slightly. He was loyal to Quillish Wammy. They had been childhood friends, school mates, and eventually business partners. Wammy was smart, an inventor and good investor, and Roger managed his estates with a hefty salary to keep him happy. But Roger knew the darker side of the man he called friend. He knew the secrets Wammy wanted to keep. He was the one who helped him keep them, in return for his comfortable living. Roger knew what he was doing was wrong, even outright evil on some level, but he liked being wealthy too much to call him on it. He was a coward, and he knew it, and he hated himself for it. He never touched any of the children in any manner, but what he let Wammy get away with doing to them, what he let him get away with doing to L himself... he was just as guilty.

And now he really didn't want to tell his friend what had happened, because he knew it would mean Mello would get hurt, badly, if he even survived whatever Wammy would plan for him. But if he didn't tell him, if they didn't take care of the problem, L would destroy both of them. "Mello... has been digging around again..."

"Mello is always digging around. Cut to the chase quickly. I have work to do."

Roger sighed. It was quite possible he was signing the child's death certificate with this information, but he still answered. "He found L's shot records last week and noticed that he was receiving monthly 'vitamin shots'. He started asking several questions about them."

Sweat began to break out on Watari's forehead. This was a different danger. Now it was more than worrying about the young teen uncovering his plans for A and B. Now it was about the brat discovering his... activities with Detective L himself. "And what did you tell him?"

"That they were vitamin shots, of course, meant to boost critical thinking and reasoning, so of course..."

"...Mello wanted the shots himself, correct?" Wammy had to admit, that was somewhat tempting. L's contrasting features, hair and skin, made him look somewhat exotic, but Mello was beautiful with tone and curves in all the right places. He was younger too, and that could mean so many pleasant things. But Mello wasn't very trusting of anyone except L himself, most likely because that was how L thought as well, trusting no one but Wammy. The only problem in that being L's trust was somewhat misplaced, and it wouldn't take Mello very long to figure that out.

"Correct. I thought perhaps, if I gave him actual vitamin shots, he would be satisfied. But he wasn't. He had to know that they were the exact ones L was receiving and not some sort of placebo. Early this morning, around three a.m., I caught him in your safe. He found the shots, and he tried to sneak one out. I searched him diligently of course and confiscated it, but now..."

"...Now he knows they exist, and he won't stop until he gets his hands on them. Did you destroy the vials?"

"Yes, immediately. As far as I know, the only ones that we have at the moment are with you in Tokyo."

Wammy paused, wondering if this would be enough to keep Mello at bay. But there was too much piling up with this kid. After this case was solved, and they returned to England, there was no telling what information Mello would have to share with L. He'd tolerated this problem long enough.

"Arrange a field trip for the children in his age group into the city. Take them to the museum and somewhere for lunch. And while this is going on..."

Roger blinked back the tear threatening to form in his eye. This was happening. This was really happening. He was about to go from being a mere bystander to an actual accomplice in hurting one of these kids. Whatever shred of morality he had left in him screamed for him to hang up the phone and get Mello as far away from Wammy's House as quickly as he could. But he was a coward. He was too old to start being a hero now. He agreed to the plan. Have someone kidnap Mello from the trip. Make sure that whatever happens, that kid doesn't live to see L again. And then all this stress would finally go away. All of the other children were complacent, too happy with their arrangements to risk it the way the blonde boy had. Matt was going to be traumatized, but even though L though Matt was smart enough to be in line for his position, he also knew Matt had no real interest in it. So it really didn't matter in the long run what happened to Matt either.

Roger hung up the phone and tried to convince himself that at least some good would come from this. Surely Near would be at least a little happy at having won the title of L's heir for himself. The bitter thought didn't even bring a ghost of a smile to the old man's lips as he searched for the number for Rod Ross. He was one of the only contacts they had that would take out kids. As he placed the order, he trembled knowing what Rod was likely to do with a pretty boy like Mello before he killed him. After he replaced the phone in his breast pocked, he pulled out his favorite bottle of scotch and began to wash away the image of Mello pale and cold beneath that monster.

And this proved to be his ultimate mistake. If he had just waited and checked the hallways before indulging in the poison he used to cleanse his guilt, he would have realized that there was no more time to take care of the teen that had caused so many issues. Mello leaned against the wall outside Roger's office, tears streaking his face as he stared unbelieving at the small crack he'd managed to put in Roger's door without him noticing. He knew he was going to get in some serious trouble for this morning. He'd known when Roger took the vial from him that something very wrong was going on. Roger had already agreed to give him the vitamins, so why take it from him? Why not just give him the shot right there? And why had he, when he thought no one would notice, returned and taken the rest of the vials, washing their contents down the sink? What were those shots really? Mello had figured that since Wammy was an inventor it was something better than just vitamin shots. But now things were taking a very sinister turn. Slowly Mello reached for the knob and ever so gently, taking so much care with it the seconds stretched into minutes, he closed the door to without making a sound. Then carefully, walking heel to toe to reduce any noise his sneakers might make against tiled hallway, he snuck back to his room.

By the time he'd gotten to his room and shut and locked the door his green eyes were rimmed red. He collapsed onto his bed and allowed himself to cry until he could calm down enough to think. He'd been worried that Roger and Wammy might suspend his extra studies in light of his new mischief. Never had he imagined they would arrange for him to be kidnapped and murdered. Of course, he had never imagined that he would uncover a secret this deadly. What were they giving Detective L in those shots? What secret could possibly be worth killing him over?

A strange calm came over him as his brilliant mind landed on the fact that whatever was in those shots, Detective L didn't know the truth about them either. That had to be it. Roger and Wammy were hiding something from the detective, something that was worth killing one of his heirs over. Mello was the only child who posed any threat to uncovering and revealing any secrets they kept to L, because he was still the only one to have ever met him face to face.

But was there more? Was there something else they were hiding? It was something to do with the files on A and B that he'd been digging into, which had earned him severe punishment of being confined to his room, by himself, for three weeks, without so much as the internet to connect to life outside of it. That had been so harsh, and at the time he hadn't known why. He'd dug into the files of other children before and never received such a strict sentence. Then again, he knew from the start that those files were going to be different. A and B had known L on a personal level. He was hoping to uncover more facts about L and his past, and perhaps discover the entire reason B left. It would have been like a present to L, and it might prove once and for all that he was the one worthy of the detective's title and not Near. Now he knew those files held a much darker truth. Something the old bastards wanted to hide. Something else L didn't know about.

Mello was no longer crying. Now his mind was racing, stringing together what he knew and trying to form the completed puzzle in his mind. He sat cross legged on his floor, his terror momentarily forgotten as he worked. He thought back to Beyond, to the few conversations they'd had, and the one piece of advice that B had given him.

"No matter what they tell you, no matter what they do for you or what they show you, do not trust them."

He'd been referring of course to the two old goats. One thing Mello thought he might know that L didn't is that B's quarrel wasn't with the detective himself. It was with Quillish Wammy. Beyond hated that man, enough that he'd described a rather violent fantasy of strangling him with his own intestines. He'd ran away and tried to create a case so perfect that even Detective L couldn't solve it. He'd even been willing to take his own life to insure it. But it wasn't about beating L. It was about beating Watari. He wanted to show Wammy that he was more than a failed successor. He wanted to prove to the old man that he was better than the original he'd been groomed to become. It seemed rather drastic even to Mello himself, but the fact that he was willing to go that far just to best an old man was more than anger and sorrow at a friend's suicide. He blamed Wammy for it. And that fact had ensured that Mello followed the advice B had left him with.

The young man had closed his eyes in thought, and when the green orbs opened again there was a cold determination behind them. Now he was sure that somehow Wammy had caused A's suicide. Something in the method's he'd used to teach and train them. He thought about his own situation with Near, and how Wammy and Roger would push them to compete with each other almost constantly. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that all the tests and evaluations they were given favored Near's knowledge and skills more than Mello's. It's almost as though the were all designed so that Near would come out on top, even if it was just by a small margin. He gritted his teeth with the realization that they had groomed him to have self conscious issues about always being 'second best.' The bastards!

And if they were willing to do those sorts of things to children, what were they willing to do to L? Was he in danger? They wouldn't do anything to risk his life. He was far too valuable and they didn't have a viable back up yet. So what were they doing to him, and how long had they been doing it? The shot records Mello discovered were only a couple of years old, but that didn't mean that more before that point didn't exist. Even if he didn't know what they were doing, he was now aware that L didn't either, and the only reason to keep it from him would be because he wouldn't agree to it if he knew.

Anger welled inside him. How DARE they betray L? When he'd been taken in, he'd been reminded over and over that all of this existed only because of how hard Detective L worked. They made him out to be more regal and pure than he actually was, but he was Mello's hero still. Because of L's hard work, he'd been saved from his own parents. It was part of a case L had worked. His parents had been Mafia members that were part of a group L investigated and took down. When he was found among their belongings, still locked in his room and emaciated from the two days he'd spent in there while his parents were being arrested and charged, Wammy had tested him. He'd tested well enough to end up where he was. And from that moment on, he decided he didn't have to be anything like his parents. Instead he would be like his savior.

And now he knew that something was happening to his idol without said idol's permission. Somehow he was being violated, and his stomach turned at all the possibilities. He didn't trust the way Wammy kept him away from everyone, so isolated from society that when a teenager had broken into his room with him in it, he'd been excited and perhaps relieved rather than angry.

Mello's cold fear had been replaced with a burning fury. Now it was about more than just preserving his own life. His hero needed rescuing, and he didn't even know it. He had to find the answers to his questions. And he had to get these answers and proof of them to Detective L. He was too young to be playing a game this dangerous, but that didn't matter now. Everything was already in motion. His curiosity about L had turned into his death knell. But he wasn't dead yet. Mello was desperate to be more like L than his own parents, but that didn't mean he hadn't learned anything from them in the first nine years of his life. He needed a plan.

Later that day, when Roger announced in a surprisingly steady voice that the kids would get to take a field trip that Friday he knew his time line was set. He had three days to come up with a plan and execute it, not only keeping himself alive but finding the information he needed to save L as well. He should have been afraid, but he wasn't. His pulse raced with excitement. Was this the same thrill that ran through L when he was presented with a challenge? It had to be. He smiled brightly when Roger looked his way, chatting excitedly with Matt and Linda about getting to go to the museam. The bastard couldn't be allowed to see him upset for a second. He couldn't know that Mello knew the truth. After all, L was counting on him.

* * *

 ****

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

1.) It should be noted that this story does not simply take place in the manga/ anime time line. While that time line is the base of this story, elements from the T.V. drama will be woven in as well. I plan to use some aspects of Light's, L's, and Near's characters from the drama, not necessarily events, although there is a good chance Misa's arc might follow the drama line more than the manga line.

2.) The Entrance Exams to Toho are taking place a little more than a week before classes in Toho will start, not almost three months before as in the proper timeline. It's purely for plot bunnies and obviously not how a school would actually conduct such an event, but it is such a minor part of the story that I do not feel it will distract or take away from the story itself.

3.) The views of Quillish Wammy are derived from Mello's description of him and Wammy's House in Another Note, though I've taken it down a bit of a darker road of course. Sorry to all the Watari fans out there. There's just something about rich old men surrounded by isolated children that I don't trust I guess.

4.) This story is rated M for a reason. It is going to deal with mature themes such as violence and non-consentual relations. Now is the time to back out if you do not have the stomach for it. I don't intend on holding back too much.

5.) I do not yet know what relationship will develop between Light and L, though I intend it to be different from the anime. Later chapters might include consentual yaoi. It will depend on how the story ends up forming. If you are not a yaoi fan, I'm really not sure what you get out of reading Death Note fanfics, but you have been warned.


	2. The Gamble

Mello managed his attitude and temper for the rest of the week, carefully plotting out every move he made. He attended classes as usual, enjoyed recess and after school time with Matt and sometimes Linda, participated in the weekly Futball game, and even continued his escapades of snooping where he was not meant to be. Wednesday he broke into the records room again, this time just looking at the size and appearance of the files he needed. When he got caught, he told Roger he was looking in his own file to see if he was given an appointment to start receiving the shots Roger promised him. He watched the old man sigh and reply that he would start right away, and Mello playing the anxious, excited youth stood behind him and peered over his shoulder while he did it. Roger wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as Wammy was, and Mello could see fatigue and stress stretched across his features. He looked at Mello sadly, and seemed to be more gentle with him than normal, not even upset that he was in there. He didn't like what was going to happen, but he wasn't going to stop it either, so Mello felt absolutely no pity for him. He remembered Beyond's strangulation fantasy again, more vividly this time, as he thought that perhaps B had a good idea after all.

Wednesday night Mello began researching a few things he would need to know, and need to get ahold of, to put his plan into action. All of this hinged on how well he was going to be able to manipulate the man Roger hired to kill him. So he researched Rod Ross late into the night, using Matt's laptop instead of his own, just incase Roger was watching his search history. He continued digging for information early into the morning until class was ready. He bought a few adderall from a fellow class mate who had been diagnosed with ADD but didn't like taking his medicine daily. It would help him get through the rest of the week without sleep. If he made it to Saturday evening, then he could worry about sleeping.

Thursday after class he continued his research, this time on American prison systems and how they dealt with a prisoner with no family dying. Mello may have been capable of doing this solely on his own, but if he could, he wanted a partner. Perhaps someone with no qualms of killing people if the necessity should arrive. Late that evening he was still researching the proper cocktail of drugs and environment required to fake someone's death. It was going to be really tricky, and even potentially life threatening, and there was no guarantee that the person he had in mind would even agree to it. But he was going to try anyway. If this part of the plan didn't work, then he would be able to discard it and continue on his way. The worst that could happen is that his hopeful accomplice would agree and then actually die from the cocktail anyway, so he spent the rest of the night studying the chemistry behind the drugs he used Wammy's PhD number to order, sending them to L's private house in Arizona. He wrote a quick letter and sent this one to his would-be partner. 

Early Friday morning, at about two thirty a.m., Mello slowly crept towards Roger's room first, predictably finding him passed out with an almost empty bottle of Scotch in hand. His nerves had been getting to him since he first placed the order, and Mello had counted on the fact that the night before he wouldn't be able to handle the pressure any longer and would turn to his favorite medicine for the cure. It allowed him enough time to sneak out and purchase a Beretta 92fs from a few thugs on the London streets. It really wasn't as difficult as it should have been. However, after he hid his purchase behind a few broken bricks in the stairs leading up to the main doors and crept back inside just before four, he ran into his first problem. It did not surprise him that it came in a small, all white package with a big head.

"You're not supposed to be out this late." Near said in his dull monotone voice. It always annoyed him, that voice. Not because it was devoid of expression, even though that was aggravating all on it's own. No, he disliked it because he often felt that Near had developed that tone in an attempt to imitate L himself. When he did speak to the children, even though he didn't use the voice scrambler, his tone was what the younger boy was reflecting. But Mello had met him, and in person, he was different. He might have sounded bored with the world behind a screen, but in person he actually seemed curious and excitable, though no one outside of Wammy's house would ever classify his attitude as such. L's face when Mello first met him displayed curiosity and interest. Near was a pale copy in comparison.

"No shit Sherlock," was Mello's tart reply. His sneer was automatically in place just talking to the twit.

"So why are you?"

"None of your damn business!"

Near shrugged. "I guess then I'll have to let Roger know about it, seeing as I do not have enough information to determine whether or not this situation could be dangerous to our safety."

It was something about the way Mello paled before he spoke that alerted Near to the fact that whatever Mello was up to, it would bring him a lot of trouble if caught. But Near knew Mello, and he was never afraid of punishment before. Something had changed.

"I went out to buy some weed, okay? Do you still feel the need to tell Roger? Are you that desperate to undermine your competition?"

"I don't know if you're actually competition..." Near allowed the sentence to hang between them, watching carefully for Mello's reaction. He should get angry. He should blow up.

To the younger man's surprise, that didn't happen. Mello just looked at him, the sneer dropping from his face as his features smoothed out. Something was going on behind those green pools, but he couldn't read it. Mello had realized something, but what was it.

"Then what do you have to gain from ratting on me?"

Mello was being calculated, carefully managing his attitude while debating with the kid who was supposed to be his nemesis. He wasn't rising to the bait. Something important was going on, and whatever it was, Near suddenly felt that tattling on his rival would be a grave error.

"I want to see it."

Mello rolled his eyes. "I hid it outside, just in case Roger was up when I got back. I can't go back out there and get it right now. I'll show you after the field trip tomorrow. Roger should be too busy getting everyone back on campus to pay too much attention to me and Matt. You can come to."

"Really?" Near frowned. Not only was Mello actually following his code name's definition, but now he was inviting Near to spend time with him as though they were friends. Was Mello hurt? Was he scared? He had to be afraid of something happening, and it had to have something to do with Roger.

"Yes, really. Just don't rat on me."

The only way Near figured he would get any answers was to agree. "Fine. Tomorrow, after the field trip."

And with that he shuffled away, leaving Mello with only the sound of his heart pounding against his rib cage. If Near changed his mind and told Roger, then it was over. Roger would know Mello was aware of the arrangement and then he might just shoot him himself. But it was doubtful Near would outright lie to him, or that he would turn Mello in for no apparent reason other than to upset the blonde. He hoped he was right.

This did complicate matters slightly, as Near might start piecing together ideas that Mello had planned to run when he didn't return from the field trip. He might alert Roger to the fact, but even then as long as Roger got the confirmation from Rod, it wouldn't matter that much.

The worst part of this was leaving Matt behind. He wanted to tell him desperately, because he didn't want his best friend worried over or mourning him. But he couldn't risk it. Chances were good Matt would want to go to help, and it would be impossible to sneak both of them out of the trip without Roger figuring out something was up. The best he could hope for was that Matt would forgive him when he returned with L. If he returned.

Shaking his head he decided that there was no good to come from considering the fact that he could fail. He couldn't allow himself to. L needed him. He would return. And he'd bring Matt all the goods from Japan he could carry back to make up for it.

* * *

Everyone was excited as they boarded the bus that would take them outside of the Wammy grounds. All of the children were happy to have a home, but they couldn't help their excitement at a chance to see the city. Mello continued to play along, excited and anxious, even though he was going on three days without sleeping by now. Still, that was what the pills he'd bought from his classmate was for. Although he was beginning to think a nap on the flight he planned to take in just a few hours wouldn't be a terrible idea.

Lunch was at a steak house, which Mello tried his best to enjoy. It was possibly his last meal after all. Roger was nothing but friendly to him, almost over eager to make sure that he was having a good time. His guilt had completely overtaken him. Mello could tell he didn't want to do this, so why was he? The answer was obviously that he liked his job, or more than that his paycheck. But if he was willing to do this for Wammy, what else could he have done? How long had Roger been covering up Wammy's actions? He would have to consider that possibility later, when he was safe enough to do so.

But he wasn't the only one who'd noticed Roger's mood today. Near was watching carefully, having been put on alert since his encounter with Mello this morning. Roger's attitude actually alarmed him. Sure, Roger was a kind man, always pleasant with the orphans, but Mello had been a trouble maker for a long time, and normally Roger's temper was shorter when it came to the second in line. Today was different. He watched Roger dote on him as though Mello needed special care and attention. Was he sick?

No, not that. Something else, Nate was sure, thought what it could be was beyond him. Mello had displayed actual fear when he threatened to let Roger know about him slipping out. Not anger, not a stubborn fit or a fist fight. He'd gotten scared, and then his attitude just changed. Suddenly he'd been calm, almost friendly, even though their history together didn't lend to it. And now Roger was acting strangely too. What information was he missing?

When they arrived at the museum, the kids split into several small groups, rushing to look at each exhibit. Mello's eyes scanned the crowd and his heart stopped for just a second when he finally spotted the man he'd been looking for. Rod Ross was tall and built, an imposing figure in a fine Armani suit. This was the moment he'd been waiting and planning for. Either he was going to get away from Wammy's House and the people who wanted him dead, or that hulk of a Mafia leader would do unmentionable things to him before hiding his body somewhere that even L might have a hard time locating. He breathed in deeply, slowly, and then exhaled. It was now or never. If he didn't approach Rod first, he wouldn't be in control of their meeting, and he needed that leverage to make this work.

Matt had hung back with him, but he was eyeing Linda's backside as she stared starry eyed at the Picaso painting in front of her. Mello nudged him, "Go ahead man. It's cool."

Matt tried to play innocent but failed. He was never good at lying to Mello. "I mean, I don't want to leave you by yourself."

Mello winked at his friend, fighting to keep his emotion from his voice. This was good bye, at least for now, and his guilt at lying to his closest friend threatened to spill into his words. "Go ahead. I want to sneak into the back anyway. I just have to know what they're hiding back there. I bet this stuff is all fake, and the real shit's somewhere in the back."

Matt laughed and believed his friend, walking away from him possibly forever without even the slightest hint of what was to come. Mello hesitated only a second before turning and walking away.

He watched Rod from his periphrial vision, walking in the direction he told Matt he was headed. Rod was smooth, he'd give him that, because if Mello hadn't known he was following him, he might not have noticed. There were no nerves in this guy. He'd probably done this so many times before. He was able to follow Mello through the next two rooms looking completely natural the entire time. Mello ducked into a back hallway, as though he were going through with his plans with Matt, and then he waited. He took deep breaths to slow his racing heart and folded his arms over his chest, looking as casual as possible when the tall man finally turned the same corner.

"I take it you're looking for me," Mello said in a steady voice. Fear had finally left him. He was empty, cold almost. He knew he might be killed, but he found confidence flooding his body as the assassin paused, clearly taken aback by being directly confronted by his target.

Rod smirked. "And what if I am?"

"If you are, then you have a choice to make." Mello remembered his mother suddenly. He had no love for her, but she had a commanding presence even among the toughest men in the underworld. He had watched her carefully control every situation she found herself in, her confident smile bringing terror to those she aimed it at. If she could do this, then so could he.

"And what choice would that be?" Rod couldn't help being amused. He watched the young teen eye him up and down, his eyes betraying nothing that was going on behind that pretty face. This wasn't a normal kid.

"You can do the job you were hired to do, get paid, and go about your day. Or, you can make triple what you would for the job your were hired for, get paid for claiming to finish the job anyway, and walk away from this encounter with enough money to buy all the arm candy, alcohol and coke you could possibly want for the next year."

Silence hung between them as Mello cooly watched him, waiting for his answer almost as though he were bored with the situation and not as if his life were on the line. Rod considered this. He wasn't one to back out of an arrangement, but if he could make out better for it, then he didn't see a reason not to. Besides, this kid was rather intriguing. But there was just one thing else he wanted.

"I wasn't just promised money for this, kid. I was also told I'd get to have some fun with a pretty little blonde boy."

Fear was not an emotion that belonged to Rod Ross. He'd forgotten about it a long time ago, many victims and drug deals ago. But as the boy continued to stare at him with that stoic gaze, his features expressing nothing, he felt a sliver of apprehension. What was it with this kid? He'd just said, basically, that he wanted to fuck him, with or without his permission and yet he didn't so much as blink.

"I have a flight to catch. It's heading to New York City in America. You're scheduled to fly out tomorrow to the same city, correct?"

"Yeah, how did you-"

"How I know what I know isn't important, and frankly it's none of your business either. If you want to fuck me, you're going to change your flight to this afternoon and follow me there. Once in New York, we'll find a hotel. You can have an hour of my time, nothing more."

Those eyes, that gaze, and that cold demeanor... he had seen it before. Amanda Keehl had given him that same look once. Was this boy related to her somehow? It didn't matter. This kid was going to pay him and let him have his way with him. "So then, what? We leave for the airport?"

"No, the flight is in three hours. Call in and change your flight on the way back to Wammy's House. We're going to break in, grab a few things, and then we'll head for the airport. You'll be paid half then and half after the hotel in New York. I'll send the other half to a P.O. box and I'll give you the address after you've had your fun and you're ready to leave. You know, just in case you think about getting too carried away with me. I'm not about to suffer because of your sick fetish."

* * *

"What is the situation?" Watari breathed lowly into the phone, eyeing the detective who was busy currently addressing Soichiro Yagami about his suspicions of his son. He wasn't sure what all L had chosen to share with him just yet, but he could tell that the police chief wasn't happy with the news he was receiving. He only had these few moments, where he was supposed to be fixing L's tea and afternoon snack, to check in with Roger.

Roger replied with a voice full of regret. "Mello headed towards the back, no doubt to sneak in somewhere, almost thirty minutes ago. Rod followed him. Neither have returned."

"Good. Call me when you get the confirmation. And remind me about your Christmas Bonus later this year."

"Of course..." Watari hung up afterwards. Roger was a weak willed individual. He always had been. That was why Wammy had kept him as such a close friend. He knew how to get what he wanted out of him.

Wordlessly he pushed a small silver cart with a tea tray over to where L was now sitting, watching Soichiro receive the news that he would be shadowing his son at the university.

"How can you still be so sure, even after the surveillance turned nothing up?"

"I am only giving it a five percent chance that Light Yagami is Kira. And I never said that the survelliance turned up nothing. In fact, the survelliance has helped assure me that I am on the right path."

"I thought you said there was no evidence on those tapes that Light was Kira."

"I said there was no credible evidence, seeing as there is nothing I could present to a jury that would be convincing of my accusation. However, I have seen enough to continue investigating your son."

Soichiro frowned at the rude foreigner, wondering slightly if everyone in Europe had such terrible manners. He'd heard so, but then again, it seemed somewhat racist to just expect it. L didn't help the situation. "If you think Light is Kira, then why did you remove the cameras?"

L sighed, somewhat annoyed. So far he liked Soichiro Yagami. He was a good man, an honorable man, and he didn't blame the chief for defending his son against what anyone would consider to be less than convincing evidence. But Yagami-san's stubbornness would complicate the investigation the more it dragged on, he was sure. And it really aggravated him to have to spell out every single thought process when he thought the answers should be obvious. He was used to it, however.

"If my suspensions are correct, the he was aware of the cameras in the house. Therefore-"

"Are you accusing me of leaking classified information?"

The detective frowned. The only thing he hated more than having to explain himself was being interrupted. "No, Yagami-san, I am not. I think-"

"Then how could he have possibly known about the cameras?"

This time L just stared at him, his eyes and face void of anything other than slight annoyance. He didn't speak for a long time, long enough that Soichiro felt the full weight of that gaze boring into him. It was as if the scrawny young man were trying to look through his skin to the muscles and bones beneath. He frowned, clearly uncomfortable as the minutes stretched on.

Once L was satisfied that he would not interrupt again, he finally continued. "I think you and I have both come to the realization that Kira has inside information, we are just not sure how he is receiving it at the moment. Just because you are not the leak does not mean there is not one, and just because it is not you does not mean it is impossible for your son to get the information from someone else. Perhaps someone who might not even be aware that they are giving out the information."

"Are you saying you think the leak might be Matsuda, and that he is unaware of it?"

L couldn't help smirking behind his cup as he took a sip of tea, wincing as he found the sugar ratio was not yet to his liking. He grabbed a couple of cubes, dropped them in, and watched with a strange allure as they melted into his drink. "Perhaps. Or there is another possibility. Your son did well in computer science and computer programming, did he not? Light has always had the high marks for his class, hasn't he?"

"Yes, Light- **kun** has." Soichiro said the honorific with a bit of grit to his voice, hoping to remind the foreigner that unlike the western world, people did not lightly address those who they were not familiar with here in Japan. It was the epitimy of rude.

The world's greatest detective seemed to take the hint. "So then it is also possible that Light-kun could be obtaining the information by breaking into Matsuda's or more likely your own computer."

"He would not do that."

"If he were not Kira, then no, I doubt he would. However, if we are operating within the five percent chance that he is Kira, then not only would he do so, he would do so with the knowledge that you would never suspect him."

It did not take long of working with L to tire of the "leap of logic" games he liked to play, especially when that game involved your family. It wasn't as though Soichiro could argue, because technically L was right. He could bet that L often skirted that "technically" line. He tried to remind himself that L was the world's best detective for a reason, and that regardless of whether or not he'd landed on the right suspect yet, his actions were getting some results. Soichiro wondered if those results were worth the drastic measures L seemed willing to take, however.

"How much do you need to clear my son of being Kira?"

"If Light-kun is not Kira, then it will come out during the investigation and you have nothing to worry about."

"And what else are you doing to locate him other than watching my son?"

L's smirk betrayed the serious tone in which he answered. "There is no guarantee I have not located him already, or we would not be having this conversation."

A growl threatened to escape the older man's throat but he kept himself in check. "This is not a game, detective."

"It is to Kira. And if we hope to catch him, we are going to have to play it better than he does."

The argument was interrupted by Watari pushing in another silver cart, this time with cake, strawberry tarts, apple turnovers, cherries, and bananas on it, in between the two of them. It was just as well. Soichiro never felt like he got anywhere arguing with the young man. A lesser man would have punched the detective in the face by now. The police chief sincerely wished that they didn't need his help as badly as they did.

As L cut a large slice of the strawberry sponge with chocolate frosting, staring at it almost like a man in love, Soichiro stood and bowed. "We will go over the information on the small time thieves that Kira last targeted again to see if we have missed anything."

L tore himself away from his food and looked up to the older man. "No, actually, there is something else I would like you to investigate. Call the task force back here. We have new information to discuss. Oh, would you like some cake?"

Soichiro shook his head politely and left the room to call Aizawa and Matsuda, L just as happy that he didn't have to share. Left alone with Watari, he turned to ask, "Who were you on the phone with?"

It did not surprise Wammy that L had seen him. He'd expected that much. His young charge had not earned his title without being observant. No, he'd expected the question, and he would lie as little as possible. He would not say anything that could later be proven false and cause L to become suspicious.

"Roger," he answered. "The older children are having a field trip today. I try to check in when I know he has them outside of Wammy grounds. We should always be careful."

"Indeed." L smiled and took a rather large bite of the three layer cake, quickly followed by several smaller bites, until the slice was gone and he was already replacing it. "Did they get to go to the amusement park?"

"The museum actually."

"Why do you two only let them go to boring places?"

"We took them to the amusement park last summer."

L rolled his eyes, looking his age for once, or possibly even younger. "You're always focused on their education. You never just let them have fun."

"Their education is important L." Watari hated these arguments. The young detective had many different ideas about how the children should be tutored and raised, and they didn't often agree with what he or Roger thought about it. That was why Wammy was more than happy to keep L focused on cases that needed solving. "Besides, you have often said yourself you lack the paternal instincts necessary to be in charge of their well-being."

"I am not a nurturer, no." A pale finger scooped up a large glob of chocolate icing and placed it eagerly between waiting lips. "But I do know a thing or two about being childish. Kids need to have fun just for the sake of having fun sometimes. They're kids, after all. I just think that perhaps you lose focus on that."

The best thing to do at this point was agree. After all, as Soichiro had already noted today, arguing with the detective rarely got you anywhere.

"Perhaps you're right. When Roger calls to confirm their safe return, we can discuss the possibility of their next trip being a relaxing outing rather than a learning one."

L nodded, satisfied, and went back to the task of clearing the tray before him.

* * *

"Mello headed towards the back, no doubt to sneak in somewhere, almost thirty minutes ago. Rod followed him. Neither have returned."

The words played over and over in Nate's head. Once they had arrived at the museum he had decided to shadow Roger, pretending to show interest in whatever the children around him were doing at the time whenever the caretaker looked his way. Mello's odd behavior might have put him on edge, but Roger's behavior since they boarded the bus this morning had made him paranoid. He knew he was missing something, and he knew whatever it was Mello not only knew about it, but he was scared of it.

He tried to remember a caretaker or professor that had been through Wammy's House named Rod, but he failed to do so. Not because he couldn't remember the caretakers or professors, but because none of them had gone by that name. Who was Rod? Why was he following Mello? Why wasn't Roger worried about Mello alone with someone who seemed to be a stranger?

Matt had tried being interested in the art Linda was staring at but had given up ten minutes in, instead just nodding when she said something and grabbing his Nintendo Ds. Ocarina of Time had been re-released, as well as Majora's Mask, and he was ready for this week to be over so he could binge all weekend in the adventures of his favorite green hooded elf. He was just finishing the last quest in town before the real fun began when Near grabbed his arm and started walking towards the back rooms Mello had been talking about, pulling him along without so much as explaining himself.

"Dude!" Matt cried. "What are you doing? I'm trying to become the Hero of Time over here."

"It doesn't worry you that Mello has been gone for a half hour now?"

"Well, now that you mention it..." Where was Mello? Even if the real stuff was in the back, he couldn't see how it was possibly more interesting than the fakes out here. And since when did Mello care about priceless art anyway?

"I over heard something. Does Mello know a man named Rod? Is that who he buys his marijuana from?"

"First, call it weed, or pot, or hash, or anything other than-"

"But that is it's proper name."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. No, that's not who Mello gets it from. And how did you know?"

"I caught him returning from buying it this morning."

Matt frowned. "Really? This soon? But I thought he just got some."

"He didn't let me see it. He said he hid it outside."

"No, no way. He'd bring it straight to his room. What the hell is all this about anyway?"

Anxious. That was the feeling coursing through Near's veins. He wasn't used to it, and his habit of curling his hair with his finger was giving him away. He couldn't help it though. Mello had lied about what he had been doing. Not a surprise in itself, but as bits of information began piling up, he had a feeling that something bad was happening. Or it had already happened.

"Matt, you need to listen carefully," Near replied, glancing all around, his eyes darting about the crowd as if looking for an enemy. "I do not know what is happening, but I think Mello is in trouble."

"Wouldn't that make you happy, though. I didn't think the two of you were friends."

"I am never happy to see Mello in trouble. To be honest, I do not really care one way or another, most of the time. But this time is different. Do you know any reason he would be scared of Roger?"

Matt laughed. "Are you kidding me? Nobody is scared of Roger. He's a pushover for the most part."

"Didn't Mello get in trouble recently? It was a rather severe punishment if I remember."

"All right, look Near, I don't know what you're up to, but if you're trying to get information out of me so that you can bribe him with it, I'm going to sock you myself."

Near frowned. For a genius, Matt didn't seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation. "I've already said I think Mello is in trouble. I mean it. I think someone might be trying to hurt him. We should find him quickly."

Matt couldn't see how Near's line of questioning lead to Mello's impeding doom, but he started moving quickly to the area Mello had ducked away to. It was easy for them to do so without being seen, and they searched the back rooms for twenty minutes, Matt becoming more frantic as the minutes ticked by and no sign of his friend could be found.

"All right, Near, what is going on?"

"I will tell you what I heard. Then we should report to Roger that we cannot find Mello. We do not want to seem suspicious."

Matt didn't follow immediately, but as the information was shared he felt himself paling. It took convincing for Matt to go back to Roger with Nate and pretend they knew nothing about his phone call with whom they could only assume was Wammy. Roger wasn't known to report to anyone else. Matt tried to be positive, hoping that maybe this was some new test for their deductive reasoning. But as they made the report and watched Roger call the children, take a head count, and then began forming groups to fan out and look for Mello while also asking the curator to call security, they were aware they'd stumbled into something far worse. Matt didn't have to fake the tears that sprang from his eyes. His best friend was now officially missing, and the only clue they had to his disappearance suggested that his life might be in danger.

* * *

Mello stared out the window as the plane took off, wondering what Matt was up to at the moment. It had been four hours since his disappearance. He knew by now. Was he crying? Guilt curdled in his stomach. Bitterly he swallowed it. No time to worry about that now. He had to focus.

His plan to get sleep on the plane was discarded as soon as he realized the Mafia leader was going through with his plans and was following him to America. He forced the mediocre meal the waitress served him down his throat before taking another pill. Two more. Hopefully it would be enough to get him through.

Mello had taken Rod to one of Wammy's private safes as soon as they had arrived and let him empty whatever he wanted from it into a duffle bag while he made his way to the record rooms, carefully avoiding other staff members. He grabbed A and B's files. L's had been moved the moment he found them, and he didn't have time to look for them again. But hopefully the information contained within A's two manilla folders and B's four would be at least helpful in not only discovering what Wammy was trying to hide, but in convincing L that the old men couldn't be trusted. He realized then that he was depending on the fact that L didn't know, and was not considering the possibility that L knew and just didn't care. No, L symbolized Justice. He might have been okay playing with the lives of hardened criminals, but not innocent children. Besides, there was still whatever was in those shots.

Since Roger had destroyed those vials he would have to wait until he found L in Kanto to get a chance to get his hands on one again. That would mean coming face to face with Wammy. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do when that happened. Where they both going to play pretend behind L's back, or was it better just to shoot the bastard the second he saw him? It was impossible to decide.

He then ran to his room. Though he would have loved to pack some clothes or even take his laptop with him, he didn't dare. If Roger noticed anything missing, he might catch on quicker than Mello wanted him to. He knew eventually Roger would notice the missing files, but he hoped to give himself enough time to get the help he wanted, before anyone figured out where he might be headed. So he grabbed the fake files he'd prepared, six manilla folders whose outsides looked identical to those he was taking. There was nothing but blank paper inside. It didn't matter. They were just for show.

After dropping off the files he ran to another private safe and grabbed five hundred thousand dollars from it. Again, eventually someone would notice, but only Wammy opened these safes, so he shouldn't be caught anytime soon. He was sorry to be taking what he was sure was L's emergency sweets fund, but he hoped given the circumstances he'd be forgiven when it was over. Or he'd be dead. Either way, L wouldn't have the chance to be mad at him for it.

Next was logging into Wammy's personal account and transferring money to an open account in New York, the information of which he then sent to a P.O. box in New Jersey. He wanted a few miles between him and Rod when this was over. He tried not to think about what would happen when they arrived at that hotel room, alone. Mello had done some experimenting of course, he was fourteen. But this was a grown, violent, dangerous man. It wasn't going to be pleasant.

Rod was waiting for him just outside in a hired limousine. He grabbed the Berretta he'd purchased the night before from the stairwell and they left. Straight to the airport, straight to boarding the plane. Rod had said little else to him, but he watched him call Roger and confirm the kill. That was the important part. Neither Roger or Wammy could be prepared for what was coming their way. It was the only hope he had in succeeding.

With seven hours between him, his destination, and what was most likely going to be one of the worst sexual encounters of his life, he settled in and began reading the files that had belonged to Beyond first, starting with the L.A.B.B. case and working his way backwards. He remembered B. He wondered if B remembered him. He'd find out soon enough.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **1.)** I apologize for such a slow start, but it should start picking up pace in Chapter 3 and Light will finally be introduced to the story.

 **2.)** L's private house in Arizona is mentioned in the novel "L Change the World."

 **3.)** Popular theory is that Kira killed Beyond Birthday, which is supposedly why he dies of a heart attack on January 21st in the first few months of the Kira case. It's such a popular theory that it is canon on the wikia time line. However, I don't think that is the case.

First, as Mello describes in the book, no one knows Beyond's real name. Beyond Birthday is the name he gives himself because of his ability to see and decipher people's death dates. The name his parents gave him is forgotten as both of his parents died in his youth. Even if we are to assume that Beyond Birthday somehow became his name, I highly doubt that either he or L would release that name to public record. Most likely he was booked under the name Rue Ryuzaki. It would give L a good reason to use it during the Kira case, seeing as if the name was researched it would simply lead back to a serial killer.

Second, killing Beyond serves Light absolutely zero purpose. He was already under arrest, therefore not a threat to innocent people. Light conducted his tests on criminals between December 14th and December 19th. Beyond wasn't used to deliver a message to detective L. Under the time of surveillance, Light killed small time criminals that appeared on local news stations, but he didn't want to keep wasting his time on such criminals. Plus, seeing as how Naomi was briefly mentioned to L and he easily fit her in with Kira's victims, chances are good Beyond would have been mentioned under the same circumstances.

So then, if it wasn't Kira, why did Beyond die of a heart attack, you might ask. Well, according to medical science, burn victims who suffer third degree burns on at least twenty-five percent or more of their body can also suffer from heart failure. I'm not one hundred percent on all the details, but the idea is that the organ becomes stressed not only from whatever damage it may have received in the initial accident but also from the healing process where it continues to pump blood into damaged areas. There is also of course severe infection to worry about. If you look at medical care in American's prison system you'll quickly discover that someone in Beyond's position would be given sub-par care. In a not-so-funny coincidence, Los Angelas is home to Twin Towers, a prison for men, which has been investigated by the U.N. for repeated human rights violations. The answer then would be that if anything other than Beyond killed Beyond, it would have been neglect, not Kira.

Now mind you, this isn't that important in the world of fanfic where canon is changed at the drop of a hat, but I thought I would add it in anyway. It's always annoyed me that people have accepted the "Kira killed Beyond" idea without question.

 **4.)** By no means do I think I am fooling any readers about who Mello wants to get help from or what Watari is actually doing with L. I'm pretty sure both have become rather obvious. I toyed with the idea of building more suspense around both, but it would have become impossible to do so without treating the reader as though they were stupid at some point, especially the first. Considering that I don't plan to shy away from too many details, it's probably best that you see some things coming.

 **5.)** I do not plan on writing out the scene between Rod and Mello as it happens. It will be described only in flashbacks from Mello's point of view. This is less an attempt at shying away from details as it is to prevent the story from becoming attractive for pedophilia.

 **6.)** Just as an FYI, there is no known "one pill" or "small drug dose" that can perfectly simulate death while leaving the target alive. Though it's popular in tv, it doesn't seem to be a real life possibility. That doesn't mean, however, that faking your death is impossible. Doctors often blame a cocktail of drugs mixed with hypothermia for medical professionals falsely declaring someone to be dead at the scene, only for them to wake up hours later. I don't suggest anyone try it, as it would take sheer luck to not wind up actually dying from the event.


	3. Bitter Sweet

Matt's anger and frustration was palpable, and Near found himself directing him away from the the others almost as soon as they arrived back home. At first the young brunette had been upset, tears visible as they finally boarded the bus with one less teenager than they had arrived with. Linda had tried to comfort him, and had it been almost any other situation he would have leaned into her embrace and taken advantage of it. This time he barely noticed she was there. He felt lost, helpless. Mello was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do other than go home and wait for someone else to save him.

But once the bus halted and the orphans began filing out, all of them saddened at the loss of one of their house mates, Matt's attitude shifted. Mello was in trouble because of something Roger had done. Who was Rod? What was he going to do to Mello? He had to find out. He couldn't wait for The New Scotland Yard to conduct their probable useless investigation before just filing his case away with all the other missing children cases. He had to do something himself. It must have been showing clearly on his face, because almost the second he stepped off of the bus, Near had him by the arm again and started heading him back to their dorms. But Matt was thinking ahead of him this time, and he picked up his pace, quickly breaking away from the slightly younger boy and almost running back towards his room.

Near meant to continue following him, but Roger's voice halted him. "How is Matt doing?"

It was odd, the sensation of dread tingling his nerves, and Nate found himself wishing he had the time to study it rather than ignore it like he needed to. Perhaps later he could try to remember the feeling and explore it then. "Not well I guess. He and Mello are very close."

Roger smiled sadly down at the teenager in front of him. "And how are you dealing with this?"

It was an innocent question from his caretaker, simply worried over his emotional state (as though he actually had one), so why did it seem so dangerous? "It has little to do with me, I find. But I would rather see Mello return safely than not."

As the older gentlemen's hand patted his shoulder, a gesture meant to comfort, the white haired youth found himself fighting not to recoil from the touch, at least not more than would be considered normal. He wanted to run, and he didn't understand why exactly. Whatever was going on, Roger was not a danger to him... was he?

"Perhaps this is just Mello's willful retaliation against his recent string of punishments. I have every hope that he will return safely soon."

A new emotion sparked in Nate, one he didn't have a name for, and even though he might have liked to study it, he found himself unable to as it overtook him, and suddenly it was taking all of his focus just to act like his normal self. This emotion had been set off by Roger's last words. Roger had just lied to him. Even though he'd known Roger was in on Mello's disappearance, he hadn't thought Wammy's partner would ever tell a flat out lie to him or any of L's heirs. Looking up at the old man gazing back at him, he felt a stinging in his eyes. Not only had he lied, but he'd done it with a straight face. If Near hadn't known he was lying, he wouldn't have had a clue. But that was what he was trained to do.

A world of possibilities opened up before him, things which he had never bothered to think about before. Roger could lie to him, so well that he wouldn't know the difference. Was this the first time Roger had lied? Could Wammy do the same? Near was a genius, but he was a genius who needed order and structure in order to survive. It was like watching a puzzle fall to pieces. Everything he thought he knew came into question. What could he trust?

For once not knowing what he should say or do, Nate nodded and simply turned to walk away. It would have been strange for any of the other kids, but not for him. Roger was used to it. Near was autistic, after all.

When he finally reached Matt's room he simply opened the door and walked in, causing Matt to jump and look his way, then to glare at him for the scare. Normally Nate would have knocked, but he hadn't really been thinking about it. He was so consumed with this mysterious feeling that he couldn't seem to focus on anything else. That was the only excuse he could think of for not noticing immediately that tears had found their way back to Matt's cheeks, his nose having turned a bright red.

"Rod Ross..."

Near's eyes widened. Rod Ross was the alias one of the most vicious Mafia leaders in the Western Hemisphere. If that was the Rod that Roger had mentioned, then chances were very good that Mello was...

"What makes you think it's Rod Ross?"

Matt spun his lab top around to reveal his search history. Surely enough, Wednesday night and Thursday morning had hit after hit of the mobster's name. Nate was still slightly confused about it when the brunette boy clarified, "Mello asked to borrow my Notebook a couple of nights ago. He didn't really say why, and I didn't even ask."

"Mello knew Roger was setting him up for..." he paused momentarily, floundering for the words. "What do we think Roger has done?"

"Dude, it looks like Roger hired someone to kidnap him. Someone really bad."

"Are you sure it was to kidnap him, not to murder him?"

White exploded in Nate's vision as Matt punched him. Usually the older boy took his friend's monotonous tone and insensitivity well, letting it roll smoothly off his back, often more concerned with the characters in his games. Not this time.

"This is not some random case we're talking about, Near. This is Mello!"

"We should still consider the possibility," Near replied, rubbing his cheek. "This may be our house mate, but we should attempt to solve this like any other case. That way-"

"Fuck you!"

Near shut his mouth, waiting. There was no point in continuing when Matt was this upset and could not reason clearly.

Matt growled but he forced himself to calm down in the same breath. "Dude, you're not Detective L, not yet. And with the way you want to approach this, you don't deserve to be. I get that you two didn't get along, and I get that you win with him out of the picture, but I want my friend back here alive."

"But if Roger arranged his kidnapping or... anything else, what good would bringing him back here do?"

Matt stopped then, pausing to consider his next action. What were they supposed to do. Even if Mello was alive, and they found him, where could they possibly go?

"We need to talk to L."

Near's statement was matter of fact. And even though Matt struggled to figure out something else, he knew Near was right. If Mello was okay, and they found him and brought him back, then he wouldn't be okay for long. The other option was trying to run away, but both Matt and Near would be searched for relentlessly, and they knew nothing other than Wammy's house.

"How do we get through to him, though? We can't ask Roger. We could try getting ahold of Wammy, but chances are good-"

"-that Wammy is in on it too, yes." Near's fingers found his hair again. "We'll have to figure that out, but first, we should try to figure out what Mello's plan was."

Finally hope sprung into Matt's chest. Yes, of course, Mello had a plan. He'd seemed a little distant half the week, and Matt quickly found out he'd bought the adderal. He knew about Roger's plan, and all this research had been done in an attempt to come out on top. "We need to go get Mello's computer too, and check his search history. If he had a plan for this, then there is a really good chance that he's okay."

"After that, we need to find out what he possibly could have done to have Wammy and Roger make him Rod's target."

Matt's heart was pounding. Average teenager's weren't equipped to handle the stress and pressure they were under at the moment, but they were far above average. That's why they were here in the first place. "We'll wait until tonight. Roger's been teary-eyed since this whole thing started. I'll bet he hits the bottle hard."

Near nodded his agreement as his mind suddenly landed on a name for the emotion that had taken him over. He trembled slightly at the realization. It made sense, he supposed. Roger and Wammy were their caretakers, and L was their idol. Yet suddenly everything was upside down, and their caretakers couldn't be trusted. The young boy's mouth went dry with the knowledge that he was afraid.

* * *

Mello watched the rain beating against the window as the taxi pulled away from the hotel, now heading back for the airport. His cheeks were wet from far more than the weather that seemed to have molded to fit his mood. Empty. He was upset, obviously, and still in pain, but otherwise he felt empty. There was nothing else, no happiness, no hope, just... a void.

He could never have prepared for what it would have been like, or he would have only agreed to a few minutes of his time. The encounter hadn't lasted more than twenty three minutes, but it had felt more like hours. Twenty three minutes as Mello wondered if each torturous second would be his last. He'd tried to remain in control when the door closed, but once that lock had turned the monster had shed his skin. He might have looked the same, but there was nothing human in his eyes as he quickly disrobed, approaching Mello at such a pace that his natural instincts took over and he took a step and a half back before stopping himself. He'd tried to speak, but then the monster grabbed him, tossed him roughly onto the bed, and consumed him.

All his struggling had been useless and only served to amuse Rod. His screaming had easily been muffled by that gigantic hand. He could have crushed him if he wanted to. All of Mello's careful planning and he could have easily met his end as that beast's plaything. The words Rod had whispered to him before he stood to get dressed played over and over in his head. "You want to play with the big boys, then you gotta learn. I want you to live the rest of your life knowing the only reason you're even breathing is because you were a good fuck, and I reward good fucks."

If Mello had bothered to open his mouth more than to bark "Airport, now!" at the driver, he would have started screaming and never stopped. Even though there had been blood it wasn't a lot, but the pain was extraordinary. And yet the pain radiating from his violated body was nothing compared to the emptiness threatening to devour him.

What would L think of him now? The thought could have destroyed him on the spot. How would he tell him? Would he tell him? What could he possibly say to make any of this all right? Burying his face in his hands he suddenly wished that he had never over heard Roger in the first place. Dying from that monster would have been better than living after what he did to him.

But dying meant burying Wammy's secret with him. Mello was the only kid ever willing to break the rules enough to get the information he had. He'd spent two years searching for L's files before foolishly realizing that they had been hidden in plain sight. It was in a folder labeled Wammy, Quillish. Mello had ignored it at first, until he realized that Wammy would keep any information about himself to himself, and not in a file cabinet. It had felt so rewarding to open it, dig pass the first thirty pages of the pseudo file, only to arrive to L's actual file. Mello tried to remember that feeling now and failed to do so. After all it had lead him here.

He wasn't sure how long he had spaced out for, or how he'd even managed to get out of the cab, pay his fare, and board a plane running purely on auto pilot as his mind was still stuck back in that hotel room. He had almost no memory of the entire affair. He was startled at first to feel a jolt as the plane took off, realizing only then that the rain was splattering against the window of the plane and not the taxi he didn't remember leaving. He took in his surroundings quickly, swallowing his panic. He still had the files with him, tucked away with a bag and clothing he'd bought from the airport when they arrived.

'It's over, Mello," he thought to himself. "It's over. It's over. You have work to do. You have to keep going. L needs you.'

He thought of L, and the first time they met. How he'd sat there for hours listening to each story the young detective had to tell him, wide eyed and in awe. This was the man who had saved him from parents who saw him as little more than a drug mule. It was his genius that finally bested Amanda Keehl and put her and her operators behind bars. It was his genius that had discovered Amanda had a child that wasn't registered with the city, or any part of England for that matter, and had sent rescue workers to find him before he died of dehydration. Everything about him amazed Mello. He was obsessed with him to the point that Matt had expressed a fair amount of concern. No one really understood, but Mello felt that he HAD to make L proud of him. For someone like Detective L to spend his valuable time trying to find and save someone like Mihael Keehl... Benevolence was the only word Mello had for it.

Mello fingered the rosary hanging around his neck. Once it had been his mother's. She considered herself Catholic. Mello was sure if there was a god, he would have struck her down immediately. He never really understood how so many hardened criminals could justify their actions enough to still call themselves Christian... or why it was so prevalent in underground societies. He hadn't ever believed in a savior.

Then Detective L found him. Not only that, he reached out to him, and took him into his own home. True, that home was an orphanage, but it was specifically for gifted children. Before Mello had ever seen L's face he had become utterly devoted to him, enough so that he started wearing the rosary in reverence to his own personal savior. And soon that became a burning desire to please L, to make him proud of the son of murderers that he'd been kind to. He wanted that title because deep down he knew it was the only way L would ever truly respect him. It was the only way L would love him, and his desire to be loved by someone had driven him to trying to sneak a peek at the man.

For the first time since Wednesday afternoon, warmth crept into Mello's chest. L's face was etched in his memory, so deeply he'd forget his own first. He could still see the brief look of shock that had crossed his face, before his eyes had lit with excitement. Mello hadn't expected him to open the door that he was trying to slowly push ajar himself. L obviously hadn't expected to find a twelve year old at his door.

"You shouldn't be here."

Those were the words L had said, yet he was smiling, his thumb running across his bottom lip absently. In his awe, Mello had forgotten to be afraid, but he remembered quickly when his idol spoke.

"I-I-I'm..." He couldn't form words, he was so frozen with the fear that he'd crossed a line and that Detective L would want nothing to do with him.

"You'll get in trouble if you sit in the hallway. You should come in before Watari sees you."

And to his amazement, L simply helped him stand and let him walk into his own private room, as if he were somehow worthy enough to see it, let alone the man who owned it. He remembered staring around, dazed, as though he were seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. It wasn't until L firmly closed the door behind them that he came back to himself and realized he hadn't told L why he was out there in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Detective L." Finally finding his voice he had tried to explain, but he didn't know what more he could say other than, "I-I shouldn't have come here. It's against the rules. I just, well, I wanted..."

"I am assuming you came here because you were curious about what I must look like."

Mello had reddened. "Yes sir, I'm sorry, but I... well, I- I wanted to thank you too."

"Thank me? What for?"

"You..." he was too embarrassed to have said 'you're my savior'. He blushed even more at the thought. But he tried his best to explain. "I'm Mihael Keehl. You saved my life."

"You should always use the name you were given when you arrived. It is for your safety."

Fear again. "I'm sor-"

"But since it is me, I think it will be all right. Yes, I remember you. I almost didn't find you in time. I apologize for making you wait so long."

Mello's head could have exploded then, trying to process how this champion of justice could possibly think he owed the someone as broken and damaged as Mihael an apology. "You didn't even have to-"

"It became obvious to me that the Keehls had a son when I noticed you in more than one of the airport security tapes. Over a period of three years, you were on eighteen different flights, no doubt because your parents were forcing you to haul drugs from country to country."

"I didn't want to."

"Of course not. You were just a child, and you should never have had to face these circumstances. And yet you did, and you did so very well."

Confusion had struck him then. Was the detective really congratulating him on being a good criminal? Why would he do that?

"It takes a lot of skill to go back and forth with those types of goods without ever raising suspension. You were able to blend in without showing the fear you must have felt. You were also able to deal with grown adults that are used to doing very terrible things. I could tell you were very intelligent. I thought we could give you a much better chance to fulfill your potential. And now that you are in consideration for my job, I would say that it has been a successful venture."

A smile ghosted across Mello's lips, followed by tears. He'd been crying a lot this week, especially for someone who didn't resort to such things, but this time it was different. He remembered L had called him a success. L had been proud of the progress he'd been making, and impressed with his skill. Even if Mihael Keehl was just a well dressed dog, Mello could be someone great, and all because of the chance L had been kind enough to give him.

And now, he would make L proud of him again, not just as a young boy with street skills or a quick learning student. This time he would impress L by doing just what the detective himself did. And just like the detective, he was willing to do whatever he had to in order to get to the truth, in order to bring about justice. Determination started filling that void in him until he felt his confidence returning. He was not Mihael the street rat any more. He was Mello, in line to become Detective L. He was going to prove that he deserved the title.

* * *

It was a bright, Saturday morning as Light approached Toho University. The entrance exams were today, and even though he'd been trying to best Detective L in a game of cat and mouse, he had adequate time to prepare for them. It was almost too easy for him. Everything was too easy for him, to the point that he'd become utterly bored with the world around him. If it weren't for the death note, he wasn't sure he would even know what it was like to feel alive. Kira had gone from a simple wish to make the world a slightly better place before his death, to a movement that would crash the system with cold, hard justice. And he would be at the helm of it, practically the god of a new world of order and peace.

And yet his mood was darkened with recent events. Or more likely, with one recent event. Sixteen days ago Kira had killed his first innocent victim (at least as far as he was concerned.) The FBI had tried to stop him, and therefore they had to be punished. It was sad, but necessary, in order to rid the world of evil he had to sacrifice the lives of a few good men. But it would be worth it. However, Naomi Misora had been a different story. She wasn't a criminal, or an agent obstructing his justice. Naomi was the fiancee of one of his victims. And instead of simply mourning Raye's loss, she had put her wits to work in order to bring about her own justice. She had Raye's death figured out in no time and had put everything on the line in the hopes that L would remember her and talk to her. She had apparently helped him put away a serial killer in a case that had been almost unsolvable. Light truly felt in someway that she had been an amazing woman.

That was what made her death so tragic. She had been on the force of good, and in her misery at losing her lover she couldn't see that Kira too was a force of good. How could she? If only she had taken more time to think things out, then he was sure she would have realized that Raye was an unfortunate but necessary step into a new and better world. Worse yet was what he'd felt during the entire encounter. He was quick to decide she needed to die, diligent to discover her identity, and eager to send her off to her grave. It was only after he'd seen the realization of her own doom hit her that he felt something else. Sorrow. When she suddenly turned and walked away from him, declining to attempt calling his father for a second time, he knew her fate was sealed. And yet he wished he could have spared her.

Something darker gnawed at his subconscious, growing more and more as he thought about it. Until it was too late, he had been happy to kill her, thrilled and pleased with himself at his ability to do so. Was that right? It didn't feel right. True, he was Kira, and it was his responsibility to judge and dole out punishment, so why shouldn't he enjoy it? He hadn't had any issues with it after he'd gotten over the first couple of kills. But deep down he couldn't justify taking Naomi's life with anything other than 'She got in my way.' That sounded more like the criminals he was judging than the god of the new world.

Ryuk's constant prodding didn't help. "How are you going to do good enough on these tests? You've barely had any time to study."

Rolling his eyes, Light wondered if it was possible to kill a Shinigami and how he might go about obtaining such information. "This will be nothing. I've been stringing Detective L along for over a month now. He can't touch me, and neither can some ridiculously easy exam. I'm too far ahead of my peers for this to be any trouble. It's really not fair."

When had he started thinking so highly of himself? Light had always realized he was above average, but he'd never really bragged about it. Sometimes he hated it because of how predictable everything became. Now he walked with more confidence, but less concern or appreciation for everyone around him. After all, they were beneath him.

Was that the way a benevolent god was supposed to think?

"Light-kun!"

He found his thoughts being over taken with annoyance as a high pitch voice squealed his name. It was Yuri. They had been on a date less than a month ago when the bus hijacking had occurred, his brilliant plan to not only get rid of the FBI agent tracking him, but also the other eleven. It would be impossible for L to determine which one had been following the real Kira. Of course, he'd seemed heroic to Yuri, and that had only increased her infatuation with him. There was always a down side, and this one came in a petite, brown haired girl who couldn't take a hint.

"Oh, Yuri-chan. Hello. I didn't expect to see you here. Are you taking the entrance exam too?" He didn't have to ask. He knew she was only here to see him. She was so... predictable.

"Who me? Oh, no way. I'm not in your league." She giggled as though somehow that should endear her to him. It disgusted him. "But I wanted to come and wish you good luck. I haven't really seen you since... well, that day."

The tone she said it in was hinting that she was disappointed in him, like he owed her something more than he had already given her. He wished he would have just ignored her. But that would have been rude, and rumors can spread quickly. Light Yagami was a model student and civilian. He could not be rude.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry Yuri. I should have called you. I guess I just got really busy cramming for this exam. Plus my dad has been working really late, so I've been trying to help around the house. My mother has been working hard too, and she deserves a break, and Sayu has needed help with some of her school work. But that's no excuse. I should have called you anyway."

Yuri squealed again in delight. Really, who found that noise cute? "Oh, Light, you're such a good son, and big brother! Don't worry, I completely understand. You've got a lot going on right now, but I just know you're going to be a big deal someday. I'll let you off the hook. Just promise to call me once all of this settles down!"

"Yes, of course." What did she mean by let him off the hook? Did she have any idea who he was? She was nothing compared to him. And now that he thought about it, she could be a liability. She could put him on that bus with Raye when the hijacking occurred. Maybe it would be best if she had a little accident.

What the hell was he thinking? What, he would kill Yuri because he asked her to go out on a date so he could set this up in the first place? He couldn't do that. Yuri wasn't a criminal. She wasn't a government force attempting to stop him. And she sure wasn't a brilliant woman who could piece clues like that together. He couldn't even justify Naomi, so how could he even think about killing Yuri?

As he quickened his pace to get into the classroom and out of his head, he wondered what was happening to him. Kira was a good guy. Good guys don't kill innocent civilians. Those were the people he was trying to protect. And Yuri had even mentioned that she thought Kira might be a good thing for this world. She was his supporter. How could he think so little of her?

Yuri, oblivious to the sociopathic tendencies of the boy who she daydreamed about, was almost skipping she was so happy. Light still liked her, he was just busy. Of course that was it. She was in such a good mood that she almost ran into the young man walking her way. She stopped just short of bumping into him and mumbled "gomen" as she took in his appearance, quickly taking a half step back. He looked hikkikomori, in a plain, old, white long sleeved shirt and thin, tacky looking jeans that were a size too big for him. His hair was a spiked mess, and the bags under his eyes were dark. Probably from hours of anime watching and game playing.

"Hello there," he spoke in a monotone voice, sounding almost as creepy as he looked.

He extended a pale hand with long, spidery fingers. She didn't want to shake his hand, but she didn't want to be rude either. She took his grip with the tip of her fingers, soft, dainty, and touching him as little as necessary. "Um, hi. I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Oh, that's quite alright. Actually, it works out for me anyway. I was hoping to get your number."

He was so forward, so definitely not hikkikimori, but still what a joke. Did he know what he looked like? He couldn't, or he never would have approached someone like her. Still, she was lucky that she happened to have a good excuse.

"Oh, well, that's nice, and I'm flattered, but I already have a boyfriend. He is going to take the entrance exams right now."

"Ah, yes, I see. Funny, I didn't think he was that interested in you."

Now she was mad. It was enough that she was being nice to him, that she should even put up with him, but how dare he talk down about such a sweet boy like Light. "Well, I'll have you know he is. We went on a date three weeks ago!"

"That seems like a long time. I don't understand how he could make someone like you wait that long."

Well, at least he realized she was out of his league. Suddenly she felt a little pity for him. Obviously he was a loner, no girlfriend and little friends if any at all. It must have taken him a lot to approach her when he knew to expect rejection. He must be used to it. She just needed to explain how devoted a person Light was, and he would understand. She was suddenly glad to have the excuse, because she would have felt even worse turning him down without one.

"Oh, I understand completely. He's been studying for these exams after all. They aren't easy."

"I know," he smiled. Creepier. "I've been studying myself."

She tried to politely keep her eyes from widening in shock but she failed miserably. "You? You're here to take the exams?"

"Yes. So how was it?"

"How was what?"

"Your date. If it has been that long and you are still so fond of him, I imagine it must have been an amazing date."

Did he realize how rude he was being, or did he just not care? "That's really not your business."

He flushed a little, looking embarrassed. "Oh, sorry, you're probably right. I shouldn't ask such a personal question. I just thought perhaps I could get a few pointers from someone like him."

L was slightly annoyed with the girl when her eyes brightened. She was so easy to manipulate. Was that what Kira saw in her?

"Oh, that's sweet. Well, I don't want to say too much, but he really was amazing. It wasn't so much the date, but what happened on the bus before that. Somebody tried to hijack it."

Bingo. There was what he'd been looking for. "Oh, I think I remember hearing about that. Wasn't that the junkie who started hallucinating?"

"Yes, it was so scary."

"I bet. So then, he wrestled the gun away from him? Is he really a hero?"

She giggled, finally at ease with the stranger in front of her. It was easy when they were talking about her favorite subject. "Well, he planned to. He wrote me a note about it. But as it turned out, there was an FBI agent right behind us who warned him not to."

"Oh, well, then lucky he was there."

"We really were, but I know Light would have put himself on the line to protect me. He's just like that, such a polite and romantic hero."

Light was on the bus with Raye when it was hi jacked by a criminal most likely controlled by Kira. He might have had the chance to get some information about Raye himself, perhaps eavesdropping on Raye's report with the officers to get his name. Had Raye been careless? What he did to get the names of the other agents was beyond him at the moment, but knowing that Kira could control the actions of his victims before their death, and that he conducted his tests in the five days before the hijacking, perhaps he could have forced Raye to give him the information. 'Good girl,' he thought to himself. Though he didn't find he thought too highly of her. She was still rambling about her hero as his mind raced to process the information. This was more evidence against Light Yagami, but not any he was willing to share at the moment. He'd keep this secret unless he absolutely had to reveal it. There was a leak in the task force, he knew it. If Kira found out what this girl had told him, he'd kill her off. Or bide his time until she was no longer a person of interest. If he wanted to keep her safe, he couldn't let the task force know.

"Wow," he said in mock amazement. "No wonder you are so devoted. I don't think I could measure up to a guy like that, but maybe I could learn something from him. Well, I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time."

"Oh, that's all right." She couldn't be mad at him, really. He didn't take very good care of his appearance, true, but maybe that was because of how ill he fit in. And beneath the rude behavior he was a nice enough guy. If he could admit Light was the better person, he couldn't be that bad. She bowed and joyously continued her walk home, dreaming of what her next date with Light might be like. Maybe she would see that strange boy again and she could convince Light to help him out a little. Yes, that would be the best thing for her to do. Just as soon as Light called her...

L watched her leave, noticing that her skipping was causing enough of a breeze to sway her short skirt. It lifted just enough that a corner of her left cheek came into view, half covered in a soft blue hue. He shook his head and looked away from her, her cute panties, and the lovely round shape of her ass. He could appreciate beauty, and he liked looking at it, but that was the extent of it. He had work to do.

* * *

The plane landed in Arizona, and Mello took a taxi to a garage that housed one of Detective L's cars. It was a Saturn, red but not flashy. It was easily forgettable. Finding the keys in a magnetic box just under the back bumper, he settled in and started the car. He was glad it was an automatic, because he didn't have much driving experience, and he didn't want to attract attention to himself. He'd never driven a car before, but he had driven a moped. True, it was different, but he was a smart boy. After driving around the garage for a few moments and getting the hang of it, he decided to head out. The windows were tinted as dark as was legal, so he wasn't too worried about someone noticing a boy that young behind the wheel, as long as he didn't get pulled over or stuck in heavy traffic. This was one of the reasons he was on his way to Los Angelas to hopefully pick up an adult to travel with. He couldn't count on avoiding authority figures the whole way through. The more he traveled, especially by plane, the more he risked discovery. He wasn't worried about getting arrested, but he also didn't want to have to worry about escaping the foster care system.

Driving out of the city and into the country side, Mello started feeling the freedom of having a powerful vehicle under your control. He almost felt unstoppable. It was enough that New York and the hotel room faded into the background. He'd done it. He'd survived. Wammy and Roger had hired a hit man to take him out, and he had outsmarted them all. He smirked, taking in the rural scenery as he drove past it. London was a compact city with streets, buildings, and smog. There was no wide open space like this there. It looked amazing.

And so did L's house, now that he got to see it in person. It was two stories and looked more like a small mansion than an average house. It was tucked away down a private road that he could bet L owned as well, seeing as it wasn't on the maps or on GPS. The only reason he knew where to go was because L had told him in such great detail about it. He'd started the L.A.B.B. investigation from that house.

"We would never be so obvious to put a key under a fake boulder by the door, of course," L had said. "Actually, it's much more tricky than that. First, the key is located under the third brick in the fifth row of the walkway up to the door. But that isn't the best part. The lock is tricky too. The outside is fake, and if you attempt to use the key on it then the house will go into lock down mode, with bars over the windows and a steel plate that slides in behind the exterior doors. Then, of course, the alarm triggers and the local authorities will be on their way. Oh, and an alert goes straight to Watari's phone, so that he can stay on top of the situation."

Mello had been amazed with the idea of it all. "Wow. So, then how do you get in?"

"I don't know if I should tell you..." L teased. He'd chuckled at the pre-teen literally bouncing up and down waiting for the answer. "Well, I suppose I can trust you. If not, it's just a house. We don't keep much there. What you have to do is turn the knob to the left. It will feel like it's locked, but if you keep turning you will hear a click and the entire lock will turn horizontal, revealing the real lock behind it."

Many people would think L took far too many precautions, but not Mello. It was more than refusing to believe his idol could be wrong about something. His parents and their friends had been the same way, always paranoid. They'd never been this smart however.

Thanks to L's instructions he found the key and let himself in. Turning to the left, he noticed four small packages in the drop box. It was the medicine he'd sent off for. He unwrapped them quickly, looking them over. First, more adderal. He was glad he'd had the foresight to order it, because he'd hesitated on it long enough that he almost hadn't. But it was becoming a life line for him. He planned to rest today, and get a good night's sleep. He knew he was safe here, and he needed to take a break from the pills. He was already worried about developing a problem.

'If I do, it's not like I can't get past it later, when this is all over.'

Second was the muscle relaxers. Six ten milligram Flexeril sat in a neat little orange bottle. This would help lower blood pressure, and this much combined with everything else should lower it to the point that Beyond's heartbeat would be undetectable. Next was the 300mg Trazadone. There were ten in the bottle, but he would only give Beyond three. More would be dangerous. He was already worried about the cocktail as it was. That combined with his current health could be deadly.

And B's current health was what had tempted him to order the fourth bottle. He wasn't completely sure how Beyond was doing. He had wanted to hack into the Twin Towers files and check on his health, but he hadn't had much time to do so back in London. Here however was a different story. L had several lap tops here, each one well equipped, so he planned to try finding B's files tonight before he got some well deserved sleep. But regardless of not knowing exactly how healthy he was, he knew that Beyond had suffered extensive damage. L's voice had trembled only the slightest as he described the scarring. B's left arm still functioned, but he doubted it was without pain. The scars started at the back and palm of his hand and nearly covered the limb all the way up to the shoulder. Obviously this was where Beyond had started the fire, and Mello could easily imagine him dousing himself in gasoline and cackling as he sparked the lighter with his left hand. He wondered slightly how long it had taken that laughter to turn into screaming.

The shoulder was almost deformed, as enough skin was eaten away that the ball joint was visible, though not to the bone at least. His chest and stomach looked as though the fire had clawed him. The left side of his neck was just as charred, and the burns continued up his throat to his lips. Only the corner had burned away, but it had given him a permanent sneer. Somehow Mello didn't think he minded that part. The burn danced just along his jaw line and up to where his left ear had been. L had looked paler than normal explaining that so much of it had been damaged the doctors had to remove it completely. The rest of his body had survived. But with so much damage the young blonde knew that B spent most of his time hurting. So he'd gotten him something to help with that, and hopefully something that would tempt him towards saying yes. A bottle full of Fentanyl. It was stronger than morphine, and the perfect medicine for someone who'd suffered the injury he had.

Everything was in place. Mello took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and repeated the process several times. Neither Roger nor Wammy knew he was still alive, and Rod was in the past. He swore to himself that when he became Detective L, he and Rod would have another discussion, after which he would bury the mother fucker. But first things first. He would re-read and take notes on the files he had with him, then plan a way to get them to Tokyo while he went to pick up his old friend.

* * *

Beyond sat in his cell, thumbing through a Madoka Magica manga he'd managed to get ahold of. He wasn't doing terrible for a prisoner in L.A., depending of course on your definition of terrible. But the conditions were not supreme either. He had a private, padded cell, due to his condition. He was kept in the mental ward, which was away from the more rowdy criminals, but closer to the more abusive guards. It was disgusting the way they treated people, even people like himself. He was pretty sure that the only reason most of the guards had never attempted to rape him (because they sure didn't mind punishing other prisoners that way) was because of his disfigurement. There was one who had given it a go anyway, but he'd underestimated how strong Beyond still was, and how crazy. One sharp bite to the femoral artery might have meant solitary for B for three days (he was a mental patient after all) but it insured that no one wanted to touch him.

But that only managed to save him from one aspect of this hell hole. The mental ward in an American prison was designed by the same sort of mind that believed in such a place, he was sure. The prisoners were treated more like hostile animals than human beings. Restraints were often a first resort, even when the only offense was a smart comment or even looking at the wrong guard the wrong way. Trying to assert that you still had rights only made things worse. Once restrained it really depended on the staff member as to what happened next. Sometimes you were just sedated to the point were you couldn't move, or even breath deeply, but you didn't exactly have the luxury of sleep either. It was like being weighed down with double your own mass. Thinking was like swimming in a fog. Beyond would rather a beating then that sluggish purgatory, especially since they had a tendency to string that horrific state along for days at a time. It was existence as little more than a zombie. Other times it was whatever the guard could imagine and get away with, usually a combination of pain, humiliation, and terror.

Sober and conscious, even when it was pain free, wasn't much better. Some of the prisoners in this ward had been here far too long, and shred by shred any sanity they had left had been stripped away from them. He heard the screams almost all of the time, sometimes from pain, sometimes from hallucinations, and sometimes from abuse, but all of it loud and unnerving. More unsettling than that was how little any of the staff members seemed affected by it. Some were completely apathetic and some got their kicks from it. They were just as inhuman as Beyond was. The only difference between them was a badge.

Weird things begin to happen to someone's mind when they lose the ability to keep track of time. They become constantly confused, and with seconds that could last hours in a place you already wanted to escape, a crushing feeling of hopelessness could settle in fast and destroy your psyche slowly. When B had first arrived, he had already noticed that this ward was relying on that to keep their prisoners more docile, or to cause them more harm, whichever. There were no clocks on the walls, no windows, and no lights out. The lights were always on, illuminating bare, white walls with only the smallest strips of color to break the monotony. It hadn't taken long for it to become difficult to tell day from night, or how much time was passing. He'd had to start tracking shift changes in order to get any sense of how many hours or days were going by. One of the first items he'd had smuggled in was a wristwatch.

Of course, he was far more intelligent than the people guarding him, and it became child's play to manipulate them into either getting things for him or getting them to argue with each other. It helped that L had made sure he had a monthly pension of a thousand dollars, over three times more than he was allowed to spend in the commissary. And he knew why L had sent the extra. It was the best way to ensure he got good care. Just slip the guard a twenty and they'd be willing to get things for you. Most prisoners used this system to get drugs inside. B used it to get manga, anime, jam, and other little harmless things that the guards didn't understand, but didn't care about either as long as they were getting paid. B had been angry at L, and he'd wanted to show him up, but he didn't hate him like he did Watari, and he knew that without L's insistence Wammy would never have set up the account on his own.

Still, Beyond found it hard to forgive L for his ignorance. He couldn't understand how someone as smart and deductive as the world's greatest detective could miss the atrocities happening at his back. It was mostly because the poor idiot trusted the old man that found him, and he didn't question that maybe there was more to Watari then a kind, rich man. Perhaps that was why Wammy spoiled him the way he did, with the desserts and constant care. As long as L was happy, and Wammy seemed like a benevolent care taker, what reason did he have to dig into the man's other activities? He wondered if L thought Wammy treated everyone that way, or if he had noticed he was special in that manner. He had to notice. He probably justified it because of the work he did. L did work constantly, barely pausing to sleep. That played into it too, of course. He never had much time to think about anything other than case work. And Wammy used that to his advantage. He was such a smart, manipulative old fuck.

Worse was that B was the only one who really knew what he was capable of. It wasn't just L that Wammy had fooled. All of the kids trusted him, because none of them knew how carefully he controlled the information they received or the activities they were a part of in efforts to keep them in line. B knew not only because he was smarter than the bastard, but because he'd watched him utterly destroy a child in efforts to understand how to best control the rest of them. A had been his friend, soft spoken but lively and kind. Wammy had left a stain that ran so deep he couldn't help his friend remove it, and A had taken his life rather than continue living with it. If he could ever get away from this place, there wouldn't be anymore game play. He'd already proven that he was on L's level, equal if not better because in the end, L had needed help to catch him. And what interesting help she had been. He was sure L had chosen her because she was Japanese and he knew what an otaku Beyond himself could be. He'd certainly commented on it before. Beyond had always replied with "better that than a pervert" which had tightened the detective's lips enough that he knew he struck a cord.

Sometimes when he was in a romanticizing mood, Beyond would imagine his and L's story together as an epic tragedy. They could have been close friends, partners even, and taken the world by storm together. They had enough in common, one trait in particular that they didn't share with anybody else. They were both monsters who played at being human. Neither one of them truly understood what it was like to feel shame or embarrassment. The human condition was a mystery to them, and they were both equally fascinated at solving it like it were any other, ordinary puzzle. It was something they had discovered the same day they met each other, because neither of them adhered to the socially normal way of handling introductions, or not asking private questions, or any sense of personal space. There was so much they could have discovered as a team, and Wammy had seen that immediately. That was why he kept them apart. He began choosing cases for L to look through that would require him traveling more. He tried to keep B busy with a number of activities, which failed, before he finally had the bright idea to introduce him to A. As their friendship developed, Beyond forgot about trying to get close to L, and Wammy got exactly what he wanted. He was very good at that. Enough so that when B had tried to warn any of the other kids about trusting him, they had just laughed at him. B, who did not take being laughed at kindly, began spending a lot of time locked in his room or to himself after that. He should have tried to reach back out to L, but he was so angry at him then. L saved thousands of people a year. Why couldn't he have saved A?

His thoughts were interrupted by mail call. Not so much the act of it itself, but by his name being called and the guard tentatively handing him a letter, either too disgusted or scared to risk touching him. Who could have possibly sent him a letter? The hopes of finding himself in a 'Silence of the Lambs' situation died out when he noticed a different female's name rather than the FBI agent's scrawled outside the letter. 'Melody Rogers'. He quirked an eyebrow, staring at the name almost in disbelief. It wasn't a person's name. It was a code name, and it took little for Beyond to guess who it could be. Although why one of Wammy's kids was contacting him, or how they even knew to find him, he couldn't fathom. Ripping the letter open, he carefully read the instructions written inside.

"Hello Rue B. Ryuzaki,

Add the name on the outside of the envelope and the following information to your visitor's list. If everything goes well, I will be there on Monday, January nineteenth, no later that four thirty p.m. If I have not arrived by Friday, January twenty-third, I will not be making it. If that is the case, please attempt to contact the family and let them know I reached out to you. Do not talk to grandpa or his partner. Call my brothers, or if you think you can reach him, your brother. Tell them I am sorry I didn't say goodbye. I can't wait to catch up with you. We have so much to talk about, and a future to start planning for. See you soon.

Your loving niece,

Melody"

As he re-read the words for the third time, his mind began racing. Like rusted wheels turning, his deductive reasoning was starting to come back to life as he picked out the message he was sure Mello was trying to send him. Mello would be here in a couple of days if his plans went well, no later than Friday if there was an issue. If B didn't see him, that meant something fatal had happened to him. He wanted B to try to reach the other two heirs if he didn't show up, or L (as if), and tell them that Mello had somehow died on his way to visit him in jail. Don't talk to Watari or Roger. He rolled his eyes at the thought. After all, he had warned Mello not to trust them. He knew better.

Perhaps then the point of that had been to let B know that now Mello knew better too. Something had happened at Wammy's House, and the blonde boy was now in danger. If he was coming to Beyond, then he was running from something, or someone. What had he done? What had he found? Had this boy somehow become a threat to Wammy? Did he plan on trying to reach L? Was he going to try to convince the detective that Watari wasn't as trustworthy as he thought?

"Good luck with that, kid," B mumbled to himself. L's policy was that he was never wrong. Convincing him of anything different was an almost impossible task. Unless, of course, you had some sort of concrete evidence. Was that it? Had Mello found some record of Wammy's misdeeds? Had he had the balls to break into the records room?

Whatever had happened, Mello was on his way here. He'd know by the end of next week whether or not he was going to make it. When he got here, he'd find out what had happened. Mello wanted his advice or he wouldn't have bothered finding him. But how did he find him? He doubted that Wammy kept records of where he'd ended up after London, or that he'd shared details of Beyond's case with any of the kids. More likely than not, Wammy had done everything in his power to help the kids forget B was ever even there. Could L have told him? Why would he? Continuing to question it would get him no where. He'd have to wait. But he was a patient man. He could do that.

* * *

Light was so bored, staring at his test cover page and fiddling with his number two pencil, tapping it lightly against his desk, that he barely registered when the monitoring professor finally gave the word to start. Yuri, Naomi, and his inner conflict seemed to have disappeared when he sat down, focusing on his perfect student appearance instead of the war brimming in his own mind. He would have to let go of his issues if he wanted to succeed as Kira. He'd honestly thought he'd already accomplished that.

Shaking his head and opening his testing booklet, he straightened the writing tool between his fingers and was about to start his hour long journey to the perfect test scores when he noticed the teacher was walking quickly towards him, and then past him. He would have ignored it if not for the teacher's words.

"Student number 162, please sit properly at your desk!"

Sit properly? What an absurd command. How could someone possibly be sitting in such a distracting manner? Were they sitting on the table? Who would do such a stupid thing at the Toho entrance exams? He had to know.

Light could not explain the pit of dread that opened in his stomach as he matched eyes with the young man in question. Creepy. He looked almost more like a ghost than a person. Most haunting were the dark pools staring back at him, like the owner could easily see through every wall Light hid behind, every mask he wore. Who was that guy? And why was he staring so intently at Light? Was he staring at Light? Was he just looking ahead? Light wanted it to be the paranoia he'd been suffering making this man seem more dangerous than he possibly could have been. Yet somehow he couldn't manage to convince himself that this was the case.

L was careful not to contact Light at this point and was sure to avoid him after the test was over. He would unnerve him soon enough, at the entrance ceremony on Wednesday. This was just a step towards that. He hid in the crowd, walking around aimlessly to anyone who might notice him. But his steps had a very clear purpose. He followed behind Light, only until the end of the second block, watching every move he made carefully.

There was a pause on Light's part, and L suddenly turned and slouched against a wall, leaning into it, doing his best to hide his facial features with his hair and shoulders. Could the boy have caught on that he was being followed? No. It didn't seem so. At least, Light never turned around to confirm that was the case. Instead he just stood still for a moment, turned his head to the right and looked up, somewhat annoyed, and then continued forward as if nothing had happened. L tried to follow his gaze but saw nothing, not even a billboard or television screen, that he could have been looking at. It was weird, but seemingly non-consequential. L took note of it anyway.

As Watari pulled up and got out of the car to open the back door for L, seeing as the world's greatest detective didn't like wasting his efforts on mundane, thoughtless tasks that didn't involve sugar, he knew it was time to inform L about his heir's disappearance. L would already be upset when he found out the information hadn't been reported immediately. Wammy knew it would take his own personal talents and careful word precision to talk the young man out of splitting his efforts between solving the Kira case and trying to find out what had happened to Mello. After talking to Roger and making sure things would be in order, he was ready. If he got away with this, then there wouldn't be anything more to worry about. L would move on. Mello would be dead. And no one else in the entire world would ever know the truth about him besides his cowardly old friend.

"I have something to report to you, Detective," Wammy said carefully as he began to pull away from the curb.

"Go ahead, Watari."

"Mello went missing on the field trip to the museum yesterday. When Roger returned to the Housing, he noticed Mello's lap top and some of his other items were missing. No one knows were he has gone to at this point in time, but it looks like he ran away."

L felt himself go cold. Mello, his oldest heir, considered second to Near but still close enough of a call for him to be in contention. Mihael Keehl. He could see the young blonde clearly in his mind. They had met each other on a few occasions, L having sought him out a couple of times after their first meeting. He was good at chess, and a great listener. He was one of the few people L had ever gotten to speak to as Lawliet and not as a great detective.

"Mello didn't run away."

L said it with such a conviction that Wammy felt his heart skip a beat. He'd always been thorough in keeping L from developing lasting, bonding relationships with anyone inside or outside of Wammy's house other than himself. B had proven to be a terrible distraction. Mello was quick to follow in his footsteps. "You already have a theory about what has happened to him?" It wasn't possible, and Watari knew that, but L had amazed him so many times before. Could he know? Had he overheard him and Roger? Had Roger actually had the balls to turn on him? No. It just couldn't be.

"I wouldn't say that, but I know he didn't just pick up and run away." L traced his bottom lip with his thumb, thoughts of Light and Kira diminished, replaced with thousands of different hypothesizes. "Mello wouldn't just leave for no reason."

"Roger said Mello had been having some behavioral problems recently. Nothing more than normal, but Roger had tried some slightly more severe punishment methods to attempt to curb his rebellious nature. He had him restrained to his room for a couple of weeks with no internet access."

L stared at Watari's back, wishing he could see his face. "In response to what? His normal inquiries?"

"While I understand that you appreciate Mello's forwardness and eagerness to learn, you yourself have agreed that some of the information we keep should be kept between as few people as possible. It may be harmless for him to break into his own records, or his peers, but he was able to find yours. That was what his punishment was for."

L smirked. "I told you he would find them."

"And I told you it wasn't a good idea for him to go looking. I understand you like the boy, L, but until he actually earns your title, there are things he doesn't need to know."

"So then maybe that is what he is doing."

"Excuse me?"

"Perhaps Mello is attempting to earn my title." L's mind was racing now, stringing together different possibilities. Wammy said it looked like Mello had run away. Roger had Scotland yard, himself, and a handful of hopeful young sleuths as his resources. If it looked like Mello had run away, then he probably had. But he wasn't running from Wammy's House, or from Detective L. No, he would bet Mello was running towards him. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Mello isn't as skilled at test taking as Near is."

"Yes, I noticed."

"If Mello was to assume that I would choose my heir off of the grading standards alone, or even if they were to be the base of my decision, then he would guess that Near was more likely to be chosen than he was. Maybe he's trying to do something to give himself a bigger advantage. This case, the Kira case, is like nothing I have ever tackled before. Maybe this is a game, or a race, to see who can figure out the key piece of evidence or who can solve the case."

Watari frowned. Perhaps he should have been more careful about Mello and how much time he and L had spent together, even if it wasn't as much as either would have liked. No matter how superior L's intelligence was, he was still human, and he was clinging to probably the only real friend he had. "I suppose it's possible. Or perhaps he is thinking along the same lines as B did. If he can't become the world's greatest detective-"

"No, Mello would never want to be the world's greatest criminal," L dismissed the thought easily. After the way Mello had spoken about his own mother, he knew that the young boy wanted more for himself. "Not unless he lived in a world where someone like Kira was considered Justice. And since that is not the case..." L was used to putting theories together quickly but something felt off about this. There was something he was missing, the catalyst that had caused Mello's departure. It had to be something more than a simple punishment, even if it was rather strict. "Mello is joining us in the hunt for Kira, but I don't understand what his motive for doing it is yet. Still, it's the only reason I could see that he would willingly leave Wammy's House. Certainly he will leave some clues to his whereabouts, so I will have to look for them."

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about the Kira case itself?"

"If I am correct about Mello, then I will hardly have to look far outside the evidence for this case to find traces of him. Besides, I have been solving smaller cases the entire time I have been hunting for Kira. Mello is coming to me. I just have to keep an eye out for him."

It was only the certainty that Mello was cold and buried in dirt that calmed Wammy. L might be brilliant, but if he was still expecting Mello alive, then he wouldn't treat this as a threat and would take his time with solving it. And this time, he wouldn't be able to. For once the great detective L was wrong. True, it was because he had inaccurate information, and thankfully the source of that inaccuracy would never be questioned because L trusted him. He didn't really want L to waste to much time on trying to find him, and letting him believe Mello was still alive and trying to find him was the easiest way to let time pass and erase whatever evidence might have lingered in the boy's death.

One might wonder what Wammy would have thought if he'd know L was closer to the truth than he was.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **1.)** The Problem With Near:  
I find Near to be an extremely difficult character to write into a story. In the manga, it seems like all of L's passion and drive was given to Mello while his deductive skills were given to Near. It's rather telling that one of Near's favorite toys is a robot, as that well describes the personality he seems to have. To be honest, he's not a character that I like much at all, and I had little intent of writing him into the story in the first place. His and Matt's arc have literally come out of nowhere, but it fits, and it didn't feel right or realistic to leave them out of a story taking place on this scale. It takes a lot of thinking and re writing, though, before I feel as though I've done his character any justice. It can be very frustrating, but I'm finding that the result is rewarding enough to continue anyway.

I mentioned that Near was autistic in this chapter. That is not information that is canonical. That is more just how I read the character. Near comes off as high-functioning autistic, and in my barely educated opinion he most likely suffers what was once referred to as Aspergur's Syndrome. I am not in any way making light of people suffering from autism. Instead, I think including something like this is a chance to make the reader more aware of it, and what people who have it might go through.

 **2.)** Let's talk about Mello's "obsession" with L. To me, the character always read that way, from the moment he was introduced. We are talking about a fourteen year old boy who left the orphanage suddenly after being informed of L's death to become a crime syndicate leader bent on taking out Kira. Most of Mello's arc was spent focusing on how he didn't want to be "second best" anymore, that he wanted to prove he was better than Near by catching the person who murdered their mentor. But, I don't think that was all of it. When Mello describes L in both "Another Note" and "L Change the World" the adjectives he uses are very telling. Mello sees L through rose colored glasses. Even when he describes L's flaws, he does so in such a flattering way that they do not seem to be actual flaws. When describing his posture and sweet tooth, Mello said: "The century's greatest detective, advertised as solving every case imaginable. How great his burden must be, how much pain must he go through every single moment: past, present, and future... A burden so great it would leave you hunched over. A bitter taste in your mouth that would leave you longing for sweets." The only thing I feel Mello is missing at this point to qualify as an actual yandare is romantic feelings for L.

A second part of this is Mello's self consciousness. Mello sees himself as "second best" or not quite good enough to be L. We're only given a couple of panels in the manga where he explains that Near was better at testing and such. Mello acts like he has a very high opinion of himself when in reality he is seeking validation. And the only way he feels he will receive that validation is by becoming L's heir. But he doesn't just want the title of Detective L. He wants to BE him, to emulate him in every way possible. It's not a healthy mind set, but extremely useful for the situation Mello finds himself in, and extremely unfortunate for Light who he brings down at the cost of his own life. It is in his willingness to die for the cause, I feel, that we learn Mello wasn't in it to be number one, or to beat Near, because he could do neither dead. Here, I believe, we learn that it was Mello's devotion to L, and to avenging his death, that lead him down this road.

So with that said, I'm not attempting to change or warp Mello's personality as much as I am attempting to explain it in the first place, or at least how I see it.

 **3.)** Now the elephant in the room. The first scene with Mello in the taxi and then on the plane was very difficult to write, at least for me. I have been fortunate to never know such a pain, but I do know people who have survived it. Rape is a very serious subject, and I didn't want to just dismiss it as something bad that just happened with no ramifications. An error I find a lot of fanfic writers make is the "glossing over" not so much of the actual event itself, but in the aftermath. If it's going to be used for a plot purpose, then it doesn't feel right not to express the character's reaction to it and how they begin coping with it. Again, Mello's obsession with L can be very useful to him, and it is what I used to pull him out of the mind set he was in at the moment. Although that doesn't necessarily mean it is all over for him, it is over for now.

 **4.)** Light Yagami... has to be my least favorite Death Note character. Canonically, he's a complete psychopath, the poster child for Anti Social Personality Disorder (ASPD). Light is concerned only with himself, focusing on his own needs with a hypocritical fanaticism most anime villains can't come close too. As far as the manga/ anime time line goes (and the Japanese movie time line) there is absolutely nothing redeemable about the character.

So that is why I first decided to draw inspiration from the T.V. drama. Light's character is more human in this case, and more likeable. (To be honest, it was the first time I ever felt sorrow when Light died.) I want to keep the characters as much in character as I can, but in Light's case, it's only a detriment to the story.


End file.
